


ASMR Housework

by PaigeofMaces



Category: Original Work
Genre: DIY, Other, Relaxing, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeofMaces/pseuds/PaigeofMaces
Summary: Graham's in for a relaxing day of painting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was something silly I made for a friend as he has a very relaxing voice, he challenged me to write something he could make into an audio book. This is the result. B&Q is a hardware/ decorating store. I'm not sure what the US version is, Home Depot maybe?

Once upon a time, about quarter to three, Graham went down to B&Q to get some magnolia paint for his mother’s house. He got into his sun warmed car and popped the cricket on as he leisurely drove into town. Arriving at the shop and cutting off the match, as they’d gone in for tea, his senses were soothed by the calming atmosphere of paints, tools and dowling. 

He perused the shelves, getting tempted by a saucy tin of sunset dream coloured silk gloss that promised all kinds of nice things were he to brush it on the walls. He was snapped out of it by the arrival of Stewart, his next door neighbour, holding a tin of mushroom paint with a knowing smile on his face. He ignored the beguiling tin and headed to the end of the aisle where the calming paints were kept. Sitting on the shelf were perfect tins of taupe, beige, cream and magnolia paints, all soft curves placed just so on the shelves,the gentle light from the store’s bulbs shining on them.

Graham reached up, picking a large tin off the shelves and carried it down the now deserted aisle towards the brush section. He took his time, feeling through the bristles of the brushes. Some rough and scratchy, some silky soft that he thought he could use to cut in above the skirting board. As he got lost in imagining himself painting the walls, lulled by the gentle drone of the wood cutting machine,he found the right set of brushes for the task and headed to the till to pay. 

 

As he waited to be served at the till, someone else entered the shop sending in a warm breeze wafting around him, calming him down and easing the burden of the heavy tin. The calm feeling stayed as his time to be served came. The transaction went through with the faint bleep of the barcode scanner, a gentle rustle of a plastic bag for the soft brushes expertly placed inside and the shuffling of two twenty pound notes. 

He got back inside the car and drove home to the rest of the cricket match and was greeted by  
the faint whistle of the kettle and clink of spoons in mugs. He drunk his cup of hot, sweetly scented tea and opened the packet of brushes with a gentle tear of cardboard and plastic. The paint tin yielded with a small pop as it was levered up with a knife.

Dipping the brush in the paint, being careful to scrape any excess onto the rim of the tin, he made his first stroke on the wall. Dip by dip he carried on, broad strokes for large areas, gentle small strokes for tight edges until one wall was done. Gradually, and with more hot tea and a digestive biscuit, the room was coated in fresh layers of paint. The slightly acrid smell oddly soothing. 

While he waited for the paint to dry he hopped in the shower and felt himself relax more as the warm water poured on him. With as much care as he had given the walls he cleaned himself of the days efforts with a piney shower gel and mint scented shampoo. He dried himself with warm fluffy towels and put on his freshly laundered pyjamas. He sank into his soft mattress feeling the slight aches of the housework fade away as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep.


End file.
